“A dialogue. That’s all we’re asking for, it doesn’t have to be everyday.” Lupin’s soft voice echoed from the kitchen as Harry watched himself in the mirror. His mum’s necklace warmed steadily against his chest.

He wondered idly if hiding in a bathroom was similar to hiding in a cupboard, but he supposed the two weren’t quite the same, as he didn’t think people often voluntarily stayed in cupboards. The bathroom, on the other hand, wasn’t an entirely uncommon place to hang about in.

Ron and Hermione had hidden in a bathroom with Harry for a fairly good amount of time in their second year. They’d been brewing polyjuice, rather than hiding though.

Neither Snape nor Sirius had said Harry couldn’t hide in the bathroom, though Harry hadn’t expressly asked them either. He wasn’t sure why he’d excused himself, aside from a generally unpleasant nervousness.

Dull fingernails worried over his wrists as he considered his behaviour.

He wasn’t afraid of the argument going on. Harry’d never been afraid of an argument before and he wasn’t going to start now. There’d never been a time when he’d hidden from the Dursleys for fear of their opinion of him. The same went for Snape, Sirius and Lupin.

He’d willingly begun explaining his mess in the first place. The argument in the kitchen was his doing.

Sirius’s anger was understandable, even expected, though Harry felt he should’ve been more prepared for it. He hadn’t thought ahead when Snape suggested visiting Sirius, and he should’ve realized in advance what all would come about from their conversation.

Especially a conversation where they were asking for help.

Harry understood why they needed all the facts as well, given how little he’d had to be getting on with in years past. He knew neither Sirius nor Lupin could’ve begun to help them if they didn’t have all the information.

Poorly informed people were rarely helpful.

All the same, Harry wished he’d thought things through a bit more.

His fingernails trailed up his hands and worried over his knuckles. He’d gone into the conversation overwhelmed and still a bit confused from Dumbledore’s search.

That was somewhat fair though, wasn’t it? Harry’d had a horrible day and re-telling it hadn’t helped make him feel better. He would’ve far preferred to fall into his bed in Ms Eileen’s house and never think of any of these troubles again.

He’d gone back and forth multiple times throughout the story, and even though Snape tried to clarify the details, Harry only wound up muddying them further after having to explain it wasn’t the first time he’d heard Nagini in his head. He hadn’t enjoyed remembering the cupboard, nor did he think his rushing through it helped Sirius or Lupin.

He’d initially tried to explain why Nagini was more real than imagined by bringing up Pettigrew’s gruesome hand, but everything fell flat after that. How could he talk about that without sounding cracked in the head?

Mentioning Pettigrew around Sirius and Lupin was a cruel punishment as well, as Harry didn’t know how he’d feel hearing someone talk about Ron or Hermione if they’d betrayed him so thoroughly. Harry should’ve written Sirius, like Hermione suggested. He could’ve taken more time explaining himself and kept the more horrifying experiences quiet.

Nausea swooped in his stomach as he thought once more of what he’d seen during Dumbledore’s search, and as his reflection stared back at him, his sore eyes tracked over his face in the grimy mirror, searching for any resemblance to Tom Riddle.

No matter where he looked, he couldn’t find any trace of Voldemort, aside from his scar, which prickled ever presently. Maybe Harry’s eyes were more bloodshot and red than average, but he felt that had more to do with Dumbledore than anything Harry’d done.

He forced away a shudder as the tunnels in his mind seemed to throb despite having been closed up.

“Not even an owl though!?” Sirius shouted. “Or a fire-call!”

Guilt bit his stomach, and Harry cursed himself for not having swallowed his pride and faced Sirius and Lupin’s anger directly.

Harry wasn’t six anymore, despite how recently he’d grown. He shouldn’t leave others to suffer his punishment. There was something distinctly childish about leaving Snape alone to apologize for Harry’s mistakes.

If Snape apologized at all.

Harry silently berated himself for having even considered that option. He couldn’t imagine why Snape would bother, given how he hated Sirius and Lupin. They weren’t Snape’s mistakes either, Snape had nothing to apologize for when it came to them.

Snape hadn’t kept Sirius and Lupin in the dark, Harry did. Snape hadn’t cursed a student or spoken parseltongue, Harry did.

He wished he knew what’d been on Sirius’s mind while they’d explained Harry’s use of parseltongue. Sirius wasn’t often difficult to read, but the look on his face loomed in Harry’s thoughts.

He picked mindlessly at a hangnail and tried to shake the fuzziness from his thoughts.

He’d watched Harry in a distinctly mistrustful way, though Harry couldn’t tell if he’d been mistrustful of Voldemort or Harry himself. At least he hadn’t begun calling Harry, Tom. Dumbledore was the only person to do that so far.

Did Sirius know Voldemort’s name was Tom?

“How can we trust—”

Sirius’s shout was cut off by the sound of a chair tipping and Harry’s eyes flashed to the door. He listened and waited out a long, heart pounding moment for if fight had broken out, but an uncomfortably still silence lingered instead.

A discordant storm of footsteps neared the landing just outside the bathroom door, followed quickly by Lupin’s strained voice.

“—Reasonable! You have got to be reasonable.”

“I am being reasonable!” Sirius bit back with a sharp whisper. “I’m trying to help—”

“You cannot help Harry by hurting the people he trusts.” Lupin said. “You know this.”

“I know that I know.” Sirius said furiously. “I don’t need the reminder.”

Someone heaved a heavy sigh and Harry wobbled in place, trying desperately to keep silent over the noisy floorboards.

“I know.”

“Alright.” Lupin answered softly. “You know what he’s like. We’ve gotten a pretty good picture over the last few months. Do you remember how it was with Lily?”

Harry jerked and threw caution to the wind as he picked his way across the floor. He didn't know Sirius’s house the same way he knew Privet Drive, but he could be balanced and careful when he needed to be.

“No.”

“That’s probably for the better,” Lupin said quietly. He added something else, though Harry couldn’t quite understand what it was he’d said. He dearly wished for a pair of extendable ears at that moment. “When you’re in a room with him, try to remember that he’s not a team player. He doesn’t have a wealth of experience relying on backup.”

“Everyone is a team player when it benefits them.” Sirius snapped.

“Snape isn’t.” Lupin said. Harry could almost hear a firm look in his eyes. “You know that's true, you’re the one who noticed that trait.”

Sirius scoffed. “I only noticed it after listening to you talk about him.”

“No, you made it separate from my theories.”

“Fine, you’re right. I had that thought when I was stressed and sixteen, but now I’m looking at Snape with a different pair of eyes, and I am painfully aware of how much I’ve failed to help in the past and how much help Harry actually needs.”

Harry grimaced. He could admit he needed help with his ribbon problem and Voldemort, which were horrible in turn, but Harry didn’t feel desperate for a tremendous amount of help otherwise.

Without Umbridge and Voldemort to worry about, he’d probably be happy as anything.

“You can’t expect someone who’s constantly alone to reach out at the first sign of trouble.” Lupin said in an odd voice.

“I’m-it’s not just Snape being Snape.” Sirius whispered. “I’m frustrated to not have known anything for weeks. I’m frustrated to be kept in the dark in this rotten house, doing nothing—”

“They came here to speak with you.” Lupin said.

Harry swallowed heavily. His earlier guilt poured through him once more and he wished he could rush from the bathroom and tell Sirius how much Harry valued him. He dreaded how his actions made Sirius feel left out.

He squeezed his eyes shut at himself.

It only made things worse when he considered how stoutly Sirius stood by Harry’s side, despite everything that’d happened. Even over the summer, Snape had mentioned Sirius arguing for Harry’s involvement in what decisions affected him.

Harry’s behaviour had been a pretty poor ‘thank you’.

“They did.” Sirius whispered.

“They went to Dumbledore—”

“Fat lot of good that did.”

Harry huffed a sardonic laugh.

“Padfoot.” Lupin made another odd sound and Harry felt his heart drop as he remembered Lupin’s unnaturally excellent hearing. “Think of the circumstances. Harry didn’t know what happened, nor was he himself. Any of us would’ve gone to Dumbledore, regardless of what might come from that. Remember when Harry passed out in Lily’s flat?”

Sirius made an uncomfortable sound.

“Imagine that, tenfold.”

Harry struggled to think back on what had happened at the time, as he’d been fairly sick and not paying attention.

He vaguely remembered having explained wanting to use his mum’s necklace as a portkey before falling into Nagini’s head and watching Bellatrix Lestrange be tortured. He’d landed back in his mum’s flat shortly after and found himself in the middle of a conversation with Snape, Sirius and Dumbledore. He couldn’t remember how he’d wound up in Dumbledore’s presence though, and he’d never considered what the three had talked about while he’d been with Nagini.

“That’s why we should’ve come with them to Dumbledore!” Sirius said furiously. “We might’ve been able to force him to explain this!”

“He said Harry wasn’t possessed.” Lupin said quietly. “That’s more than enough to be getting on with.”

“No it isn’t. This isn’t a ‘guess what I’m thinking’ game, this is Harry’s life!”

Anger burned in Harry’s chest and he wished suddenly that Sirius had come with them to Dumbledore’s meeting.

His fists clenched and his nails bit into his palms. Dumbledore likely wouldn’t have been able to stupefy both Sirius and Snape, and Sirius wouldn’t have let Dumbledore hunt through Harry’s thoughts so easily. Harry knew Snape hadn’t allowed Dumbledore to search through Harry either, just as Harry'd tried to stop him. Three on one was a bit different from one adult and a child sized person though, wasn’t it?

He tried to take a deep breath as he pictured the snitch, but it struggled to flutter into his mind. The concept of Occlumency seemed to only grow more difficult the longer he practiced, and he was beginning to doubt his ability to learn it.

“Harry?” Lupin called, shocking Harry from his thoughts.

Harry flinched and mentally berated the creaking floorboards beneath him.

“Are you alright in there?” Lupin asked.

Sirius whispered something, but it was cut off with a swift sound.

Harry shook his head ‘no’ at the faded, black door and lamented every decision he’d ever made. He was fairly sure Lupin couldn’t hear the quiet gesture and thanked the door for whatever modicum of privacy it gave him.

“Yes.” He croaked after a second.

“Would you like a glass of water?” Lupin asked.

Harry swallowed heavily as he stared at the dinged, antique glass knob before he pushed the door open and quickly spied Sirius and Lupin hunched together near a painted bannister. Sirius’s eyes lingered nervously on Harry, seeming to wait for him to say something, though Harry dreaded the idea of apologizing until he knew how to make up for his lack of communication. He wished the two had finished their conversation and Harry’d been able to escape before Lupin heard him, though, maybe Lupin had assumed Harry’d chosen that bathroom, and only remembered to check before continuing their conversation.

That seemed unlikely, given his hearing.

“There are glasses in the cabinet.” Lupin said as his head tilted toward the kitchen. “Should I show you where they are?”

“I wasn’t—” Harry started before clearing his throat. “I wasn’t eavesdropping, intentionally.” He said lamely. Aunt Petunia’s hatred for eavesdropping rose up his spine, though he crushed it before he could acknowledge it. It was very difficult to avoid listening in on conversations when his cupboard was in an echoey hallway. The door had slats on the wall as well, leaving it even more open. “I didn’t, I—”

“I didn’t accuse you of eavesdropping.” Lupin said kindly. “I thought I heard a worrying sound and asked how you were because of that.”

Harry blinked dumbly.

If Lupin meant one frustrated huff, then maybe he worried Harry was more cracked than he let on. Harry’d handled far more horrible problems than Umbridge and speaking parseltongue in his life before, the Triwizard Tournament wasn’t exactly a walk in the park for a fourth year, and neither was the graveyard.

“I’m not mental. I’m just stressed.” Harry quickly answered. “Which I think is fair, given everything that’s gone on!” He said as he waved a hand through the air and gestured toward the invisible problems.

“I didn’t say you were mental either.” Lupin said.

“Well—”

“Let’s get some water.” Lupin said with a nod before nudging Sirius toward the kitchen. He rifled through the baggy pockets of his cardigan and pulled out a bit of chocolate.

Harry’s fists clenched once more and he almost wanted to shout as he trailed after them. He wasn’t sure what it was he wanted to shout about, perhaps he wanted to force Lupin to admit he’d caught Harry eavesdropping, or admit he thought Harry was cracked, but Lupin seemed determined to be thick about it.

The crooked candelabras on the walls brightened as they passed by. Harry wasn’t sure how, but he was sure they were aware of his frustrated mood, and he wondered if thats why they’d brightened.

His mum’s necklace hummed warmly.

“I think it would be wise to change topics.” Lupin said as they slipped into the kitchen.

Snape sat up when he saw Harry and his eyes tracked over his face. He didn’t look angry to have sat through Sirius and Lupin’s frustration, but he didn’t look entirely pleased to still be present either.

Harry scratched idly over his wrists again.

“Let’s focus on your,” Lupin paused for a moment as he struggled to find the right wording. “Inability to discuss Voldemort’s rebirth.”

The ribbons slipped around Harry’s thoughts at Lupin’s comment and he tried to shake them away, but they danced through his thoughts regardless. He didn’t think anyone had spoken outright about Voldemort around Harry since they’d first tried exploring Harry’s ribbons, and he worried now that he’d miss details by being intentionally distracted.

Lupin stepped toward a cabinet and pulled a glass down before filling it with water and passing it to Harry. He broke off a piece of chocolate each for Sirius and Harry, before offering some to Snape, though Snape denied it.

Harry almost wished he’d taken a piece, it might help the three of them become better friends.

“Would it be possible for you to get Harry’s memory of the meeting with Umbridge, Severus?” Lupin asked as he looked toward Snape. “So we can search through it.”

Snape raised an eyebrow at the request, though he kept quiet as he stood and gave Harry a reassuring look before making his way toward the fireplace in the sitting room. Harry had a sudden memory of the time Snape had left him with Ms Eileen in the market while he ran a short errand. He knew it was illogical to worry about Snape choosing to leave permanently, but his heart thumped at the thought all the same. The floo gave a rushing sound as Snape called out the location for his house.

Harry fought the urge to run into the sitting room and check if he truly had gone. He wondered if Sirius or Lupin would think of his behaviour as childish if he sat and waited near the entryway.

No doubt they would.

“While Snape’s at it, try and describe what sensation—”

“Ribbons.” Harry said quickly before wondering if Lupin might be able to hear the way they slid over Harry’s face. “Ribbons, can you hear them?”

Lupin shook his head ‘no’. “I’m going to ask you some ‘yes and no’ questions, you nod or shake your head. Hopefully that’ll get around your inability to explain them.”

Harry nodded.

“Can you feel ribbons now?” Lupin asked.

Harry nodded again as they slid over his jaw.

Sirius rubbed a hand over his own jaw and helped guide Harry into a chair before falling into the seat next to him. “Do you feel them everyday, or only when Voldemort is mentioned?” He asked.

Lupin held up a hand. “Yes or no, Sirius.” He said. “Snape mentioned a babbling effect, and that might affect anyone listening to Harry, as well as Harry himself.” He added.

Condensation dripped down Harry’s glass and he set it onto the table quickly. He blinked toward the hallway that fed into the entryway and wondered how long it actually took to travel between the locations. Harry hadn’t felt it’d taken a very long time when he’d been with Snape, but then, they hadn’t been held up for any reasons. What if Dumbledore stopped Snape?

What if Umbridge stalled him?

The anger he’d felt upon hearing Snape working for Umbridge simmered beneath his skin. A frightfully possessive feeling crept up on him, but he tried to ignore it as he turned back to Lupin.

He belatedly realized his apprehension hadn’t been missed, as Lupin’s flat eyes watched Harry closely.

“Sorry, erm, were-er,” Harry stammered. “Were those the only questions?”

“No,” Lupin said with a slow shake of his head. “You mentioned having found a way around them?”

Harry nodded.

“Did you do that by swapping out Voldemort for You-Know-Who?” Lupin asked.

Harry shook his head ‘no’. “Mass-murdering megalomaniac.” He idly rubbed over his wrist and tried to ignore the urge to look toward the entryway once more, but he found himself quickly searching over the empty walls and floor despite himself.

“Both You-Know-Who and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named cause ribbons?”

“You-Know-Who doesn’t. I think she wants me afraid to say his name.” Harry said, remembering how strange it was for Umbridge to have chosen that name to be safe to say, if she wanted everyone to believe Voldemort was truly dead. “Neither does Tom Riddle.”

Sirius blinked. “Tom Riddle?” He asked as he tossed a quick look at Lupin.

“That’s his name.” Harry said. “Tom Marvolo Riddle Jnr.” The ribbons lay dormant as he thought of the name, which struck Harry as odd once more. He wondered if she thought Voldmort’s name was truly Lord Voldemort. “Though I don’t remember if Junior made it into his—” He flicked a hand at the glowing letters in his mind. They flickered past one another as they rearranged themselves before forming ‘I am Lord Voldemort’. “I suppose there’s no ‘J’ so he couldn’t have put it in there.”

“Wait—” Lupin began slowly.

“How did you learn that?” Sirius held a hand to Lupin and leant closer as a concerned crease cut over his brow. He whispered the name ‘Marvolo’ beneath his breath before turning back to Harry. “I don’t think we’ve heard of a middle name. I don’t think we’ve even heard of the last name.”

“Erm,” Harry started after realizing how far off track he’d gone. “A couple places, really.” He said before swallowing heavily as Tom Riddle Snr’s headstone blinked in his mind. “He doesn’t like the name, despises it actually.”

“Does he? What do you think?” Sirius asked.

Harry shrugged. “I think it’s just a name.”

He looked back toward the entryway and tried to take a deep breath. Snape would be back soon, just as he’d come back at the market.

“An pseudonym is a good way to cover a muggle name.” Lupin said as he gave a questioning look at Sirius. “Riddle’s not a pureblood name.” He added as Sirius shook his head ‘no’. “Neither is Tom.”

“Plenty of purebloods have average names though,” Sirius said. “Doesn’t mean they’re any less of a pureblood.”

“His dad was a muggle.” Harry said. “His mum was a witch, but he didn’t know that until much later I think, because he said she’d lived long enough to give him his name.”

Lupin’s eyes widened. “He’s chatty.”

“When he thinks he’s winning.” Harry said darkly. He tugged at his sweater and tried to take a sip of water to distract himself.

“That helps explain a few things about him though, doesn’t it?” Lupin said. “Even if he isn’t strictly muggle-born, some people who grow up without being surrounded by magic can be more dangerous, given their lack of preconceived notions about it.”

“Well, now—” Sirius said with a raised finger.

Harry was quickly reminded of Hermione’s frightening skill with magic, though he hadn’t considered his own skills as frightening. He didn’t think he underestimated himself, but he didn’t exactly feel truly dangerous.

“I dunno.” Harry said, unsure if that truly made so much of a difference.

“Because purebloods grow up with magic, they’re more aware of it’s limitations and faults, they’re less likely to try new things because they assume they’ll fail based on prior knowledge.” Lupin said. “Muggle-borns often offer a broader sense of creativity. It’s an unspoken aspect of why they’re discriminated against. They’re a bit more inventive, if they’re drawn to invention. They aren’t as aware of innate limits, and will push themselves as far as they can go.”

“Marvolo.” Sirius said as he tapped the table. “You don’t know he didn’t find this Marvolo character and learn it all from him.”

“He grew up in a muggle orphanage.” Harry said quickly. “At least, he asked Dippet to let him stay at Hogwarts over the holidays because of it.” Harry added, though he thought belatedly if he should keep quiet about everything Tom Riddle had told him in the Chamber of Secrets.

“Voldemort willingly told you this?” Lupin asked with a concerned look.

“Well,” Harry started. “Well, he was curious. The version of him that I met was, I mean.” He gave them a pleading look and hoped they’d believe him, despite how mad this sounded. He hadn’t tried to explain this to anyone but Dumbledore before. “He’d, erm, he’d been possessing Ginny. And Ginny’d mentioned me, but he’d been confused about how I could’ve killed him, or-I mean, him in the future.”

Lupin gave him an increasingly concerned look but before he could add anything else, the front door opened and Harry shot out of his chair.

He bolted down the hallway and his nervous worry eased as he spotted Snape’s soaked dark cloak weighing him down.

“Have they behaved themselves?” Snape asked as he shook the rain from his sleeves and flicked his wand. Any evidence of a thunderstorm was swept from his before tugged Harry into a careful one armed hug.

“They were fine.” Harry whispered. “They asked some questions about the ribbons and Vol-er, him but nothing happened.”

Snape hummed.

“Did you see Dumbledore?” Harry asked. “Or Umbridge?”

“I saw neither,” Snape said. “I doubt Dumbledore will visit with either of us for a day or two, unless he’s in desperate need. He likely wants to give you space and time to put your thoughts together, after what happened.”

Harry scoffed.

Snape nodded once. “His manners extend only so far.”

They made short work of returning to the kitchen while Snape pulled a shrunken pensieve from his pocket and resized it. Lupin asked Harry several questions in a row as he worked, such as if he needed to say the passphrase in order for the ribbons to stop every time they choked him, if the passphrase changed depending on context and if the ribbons showed up directly after his meeting or if they were delayed, but they were all answered in short succession without Harry babbling too much.

“Harry, I’ll go in with you first if you’re up for it, then Sirius can view it, if he chooses.” Lupin said.

Snape looked displeased, but Harry nodded before he could comment. He stepped closer to the pensieve and wondered idly why Lupin would’ve even been concerned in the first place, seeing as it was Harry’s memory. It wasn’t as if he was rewatching Voldemort’s rebirth.

Ribbons flickered over his lips, but he tried to ignore them.

“Shall we, then?” Lupin asked.

Harry blinked upward to check with Snape and worried suddenly about leaving him and Sirius alone. They’d already stayed in a room together for a while this evening, he didn’t think they could tolerate much more. There might not be a kitchen to come back to, if they were left to themselves. An uncomfortable feeling crept up his spine at the sudden thought of showing Lupin his memory as well, as Harry didn’t think he’d been the most aware during the meeting, and given how proudly Sirius and Lupin spoke of Harry, he worried they’d think he was cracked to have willingly sat through a meeting with Umbridge.

Sirius had already mentioned Harry not being thick enough to let her so close.

“They’ll be alright,” Lupin whispered as he dipped the silvery memory into the bowl. “Give them a chance. They might surprise you.”

Harry edged closer to the bowl and tried to resist the urge to turn back around and check with Snape once more.

Lupin’s head dove down, forcing Harry to push aside his worries and follow quickly. He found himself watching a Memory Harry knock on the heavy, iron banded door to the Defense office.

Snape hadn’t been kidding when he’d remarked on how ill Harry’d been the evening of the memory. He wondered why no one had pointed it out sooner, but shook his head after remembering someone had. Hermione urged him to find Madam Pomfrey. Looking at himself now, he couldn’t imagine why Umbridge wouldn’t have sent him away to come back later, if she wanted to poison him.

No poison would’ve stayed down, given his sickly pallor.

“Symptoms of the aging potions failure?” Lupin asked as he looked at Harry’s sweaty form.

Harry nodded as Umbridge’s sickly-sweet voice echoed around them. He wondered if the buzzing in his ears was from his memory or his reaction to hearing Unbridge’s voice.

“Ah, Mr Potter.”

Memory Harry gave a fierce shudder and Umbridge’s yowling cats took over Harry’s thoughts just they’d taken over when he’d visited Umbridge the first time. Her china plates looked like the type to fall and easily break, only further reminding him of Aunt Petunia. He supposed Umbridge must’ve charmed them to stay on the wall, or else they’d have probably all broken after Fred and George brought down the wall.

He was very glad she hadn’t thought of a way to blame him for that wall.

“Lovely decorations.” Lupin said as they followed Harry further into the room. “Very pink.”

“Good evening, Professor.”

“Like Aunt Petunia’s sitting room.” Harry said as he shook away his own shudder.

Lupin blinked curiously at him before returning to watching the memory.

“You received my message, I’m so pleased.” Umbridge said with her horrible smile. “I was unsure if we’d have time to chat before lessons started tomorrow, but I had a few concerns I wanted to discuss, like I mentioned in my note.”

“That’d be the note Severus tested?” Lupin asked.

Harry nodded and watched Umbridge continue speaking until she invited his memory to sit down. Her painted lips split into a grotesquely wide smile as she spoke. Harry was unsure why anyone would intentionally paint their face like she had, given how odd and disquieting it made anyone who looked at her feel. The missing flecks from where she’d forgotten to touch it up made her look strangely less normal. She reminded Harry of Mrs Polkiss, and the way she and Aunt Petunia used to test out colors on each other while Harry made them tea and finger sandwiches.

Mrs Polkiss had thought practicing waiting tables would serve Harry well.

“It’s curious how she knew you weren’t at Privet Drive.” Lupin’s soft voice echoed from somewhere to Harry’s right.

Harry blinked upward at him and wondered what he thought of Umbridge so far. Perhaps asking Harry questions was a way to distract him from thinking about Snape and Sirius getting into a fight?

“The Order didn’t maintain a watch on that house, as you weren’t there.” Lupin stepped over to the blurry paperwork on her desk. Harry supposed it made sense for it to be difficult to read in his memory, given how he’d struggled to do so during the actual meeting.

“I would be less surprised had she known you were in Germany, but she only knew that you weren’t present at Privet Drive,” Lupin clicked his tongue.

Harry stomach soured. He didn’t fancy thinking of Germany at the moment.

“If the Ministry was actually aware that you weren’t present at the house, they’d have checked on you. It’d have been in the papers.”

Harry belatedly remembered Snape saying something similar. The humming grew in his ears, and Harry wondered if he was beginning to drop into his thoughts.

“Did Severus say if your aunt mentioned her.”

Harry blinked at Umbridge’s face. Snape mentioned writing to Aunt Petunia, but he somehow doubted she’d written back. Maybe he’d visited her in person, but neglected to tell Harry?

Umbridge rose from her seat and crept closer to the memory Harry, in a way eerily reminiscent of Aragog. She hung over her desk and moved hand over hand around the side of it as she encroached upon them.

“She doesn’t take her eyes off you, does she?” Lupin asked in an echoey voice.

He opened his mouth to reply but no sound came out. The buzzing that’d hummed in his ears during their meeting dampened his thoughts.

Something tickled his wrists, silencing the buzzing unnaturally.

Harry flinched and twisted around as he searched for what had paused the sound. He spotted Lupin quickly, and jerked as he noticed the concerned look on his face.

“How did you do that?” Harry asked as shock filtered through him. He tossed a second nervous looked around and realized that the memory had frozen with an unnatural stillness. He quickly spied Umbridge leaning fully over the memory of himself, who’d been hunched down and clearly desperate to hide, but lacking anywhere to go.

He swallowed back the uncomfortable feeling of seeing stark fear in his eyes.

It was hard to tell how long Harry’d been lost in his thoughts, but he hoped it’d only been a second or two. Lupin likely didn’t know Snape’s trick for pulling Harry from his thoughts, but maybe he’d been the cause of whatever brushed over his hand.

“I don’t think you should suffer this twice, Harry.” Lupin said softly. “There’s no need to go through this again.”

“But, I’m-I’m ok.” Harry said.

Maybe he’d been caught in his thoughts, but he’d far prefer a bit of discomfort now if it removed the ribbons sooner.

“I thought you’d need help with an explanation, or some more reason for why I sat or—”

“While I appreciate your background knowledge, I’m far more concerned with how this can still affect you.” Lupin said softly. “I hadn’t anticipated what level of an attack this was, and I should’ve. I’m sorry. Severus watched this alone, didn’t he?

Harry nodded as he thought of the way Snape had spoken about Umbridge’s questions, rather than her actions when Harry’d asked him about the memory.

“Sirius and I can review it later and ask you what your opinions are. You shouldn’t feel pressured into reliving it though.” Lupin said before pointing upwards and pulling Harry out.

They found themselves in a remarkably unchanged kitchen.

Harry looked nervously between Snape and Sirius, and found that aside from a sort of prolonged staring contest, neither looked worse than they had before Harry and Lupin viewed the memory.

Snape quickly abandoned whatever silent game he and Sirius were playing and checked Harry over.

Harry nearly wanted to laugh, as Snape behaved oddly similar to how Mrs Weasley had, when she inspected Ron after he’d been attacked by doxies. Snape wasn’t nearly as obvious in his concern and he gave Harry quite a bit of room as he worked, but the comparison stood.

He flicked his wand and cast a gentle cooling charm over Harry, before looking carefully at his eyes and hands.

“How was it then?” Sirius asked as he watched Snape.

“I recommend watching for yourself.” Lupin said as gave Sirius a blank look.

Sirius nodded, and Harry worried again about how difficult to read he was becoming.

“I do have one thought, that’s been on my mind for a while now.” Lupin said. “If you’re up to hearing about it Harry.”

Harry twisted away from Snape and nodded.

“You had a pretty pronounced reaction when you walked into her office,” Lupin began slowly. “And again after the fact when you watched it, though it was a bit more subdued.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, remembering the uncomfortable shudder her office brought about. “Her office looks like Aunt Petunia’s sitting room. Snape’s seen it, it’s not a calm place to be.”

“It’s certainly not a room designed for comfort.” Snape said.

Lupin hummed an agreeable sound. “Based on your reactions, I’m beginning to think you were confunded.”

“What?” Sirius asked. “Illegality aside, why not wait? She couldn’t have known how Harry’d react to that, confunding someone off the bat—”

“Because gagging curses take a long time to cast.” Lupin said, parroting Sirius’s comment from earlier. “And she’s on a tight schedule. It’s difficult to parsel through that memory. Your focus is all over the room, Harry which isn’t unusual for a memory of an attack.” He added before Harry could begin defending himself. “It’s also notoriously difficult to tell from memory alone if someone has been confunded, but the effect is a pronounced shudder followed by a varying degree of confusion from the attacked party. You’re near silent during that conversation. You blink a bit at her, but otherwise seem completely unable to respond to anything she asks.”

“Because she scared me!” Harry snapped before feeling as if his heart dropped into his stomach at his own words.

“Harry,” Lupin said softly. “It’s not a judgement on your reaction, it's an observation.”

“What did you think?!” Harry asked as he whirled around to look at Snape. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to hide beneath his cloak again, regardless of his size. “You never said anything about my being confunded!”

Snape looked carefully at Harry before slowly inhaling. “I’ve seen your reactions to your aunt’s house before, as well as during other moments when you’ve panicked. If I had believed you’d been confunded, I’d have told you.”

“Please don’t think Severus missed an obvious clue, Harry.” Lupin cut in quickly. “Confundus charms and traumatized reactions can be easily mistaken for each other. How one person reacts to events may appear very much like the effects of a confundus charm.” He added in a careful tone. “It’s only because you were present and gave a similar, but different reaction that I noticed it.”

“What about her tea though, or her note!?” Harry asked quickly. A mortifying feeling began curling through him at how quickly and easily Umbridge had gotten to him.

“We don’t know if they have or have not been tampered with, so we’ll continue to wait on results for those. It wouldn’t be out of the ordinary for the Ministry to utilize several ways to achieve their means.” Sirius said as something angry burned behind his grey eyes. “If it really is a gagging curse keeping you silent, you’re in an excellent house to find the counter-curse.